The One Who Defied Luck
by LostRose0
Summary: I've never had good luck. What about being in the "Great city of Gotham" would make that any different? I've had a hard life. Typical past, Typical girl. So much bad luck... Although, I didn't know how much bad luck I had, until a gun was pressed against the side of my head, and fired. But, I've never had good luck. So, how would that make it any different? Various x OC
1. Chapter 1

_"Once, the city used to pulse with energy._

 _Dirty and dangerous, but alive and wonderful._

 _Now, it's something else."_

 _-Mirror's Edge_

"Please don't leave, Ozzy!", The little girl in the polka-dot dress whined and pulled on the boy's black suit jacket. "I'll be lonely if you leave. Who will I play with once you've gone?"

The gloomy boy scoffed and hid his face from her.

"Literally, anyone else. Annoy someone else for a change, I'm sure somebody will be dumb enough to play with you.", The boy stated coldly.

"But, I only want to annoy you, Ozzy!" The little girl didn't care about his words and never faltered in her begging. "Please, Please, _Please_ don't go! You're my only friend! You're the only one who believes me when mommy and daddy hurts me. I'll miss you….." Tears welled up in the pipsqueak's eyes as she stared down at the locket within her hands.

The boy sighed as his rocky exterior fell. He turned around and hugged her head into his mid torso. She felt tear droplets on her head as he spoke softly. "Listen, I have to go. There's nothing I can do about that right now. But…. When I'm king of Gotham, and in charge, I'll come back for you, okay? Just like in all those stupid fairy-tale books that you bring, The king can't run things without his queen." He kneeled down and hugged her tightly one last time. "I'll come back. I promise. I'll come back for you, one day."

 _MEH! MEH! MEH! MEH! MEH! ME-_

My hand slammed down on to the alarm clock button. I eloquently decided to knock it off the nightstand completely for disturbing my slumber so I can go to work.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes with my palm. The rain pattered against my apartment window, as I looked around at the dump I called home. The wallpaper is dirty, peeling off the walls, the place smells like urine, and the heater is broken but, it's all I could afford. I'm just a waitress at a local cafe, after all. My parents don't give a rat's ass what happens to me which means no help whatsoever from them, either. So, for now, this is home.

Home Smelly Home. Yay.

I pushed myself off the bed and pulled my dirty over-sized t-shirt over my thighs, then I walked to one of the windows in my small apartment. My room was near the top floor of the apartment building, so I could see almost all of Gotham city. Today, it was gloomy. Meh. It was always gloomy in Gotham. The muffled sound of cars and splashing of water comforted me since it pretty much was always bustling in this forsaken city. So many people come here to seek their fortune, and some, change their lives. But, you also have the chance of losing whatever you came with, including your life.

It's sad really, but who could resist such a city? Not me. I came with nothing, and expected nothing. So, I got nothing. I'm okay, though. I make do with my job and keep food on the table. That's more than what could be said for a lot of people.

By day, this place was strictly business and vanilla go to work, come home life. By night, it transformed into a place more corrupt than I can describe. Maybe, it's corrupt in the daylight too? It's possible it's just hidden like the moon, only visible when the sun disappears. Swept under the rug, or just hidden, either way, all the sin, death, and super criminals come alive at nightfall.

I turned away from the window and grabbed my relatively clean coffee pot from the sink. I turned on the faucet, the pipes creaking and groaning, before deciding to grace me with the presence of water. I rinsed out the glass pot once before placing it in the coffee machine, and flipped the switch on it. As it whirred to life and started to brew my precious life-force, I dwelled on my previous thought.

It never really was sunny here, the clouds always blocked the sun in one way or another. Mostly, it was from the industrial plants. I sat in on one of the environmental nut meetings and beside their doomsday rants about global warming, they said the big pollution clouds came from "Sionis" industries, owned by a man with the name of "Roman Sionis". They shared whispers about how no one really knew what they were making there.

Still, at night, when most of the factories are shut down, this place is truly beautiful. The lights that blossom within the city are stunning, no matter how dangerous it is out there. Music is heard in the streets, laughter, talking. It's nice just to walk around, listening to the sounds. It's one of the things that make living here worth it.

The coffee is going to take a while, so I walk over to my closet, and sift through my clothes. I'll wear whatever is comfortable. I'm not a picky girl. Beggars can't be choosers.

I decide on a grey hoodie, lounge pants, and my worn out white sneakers. I really couldn't care less what people see when they look at my slobby outfit. I'm a hard working girl trying to support herself the right, legal way. So, they can take their judgments and shove 'em right up their ass.

I looked at myself in the mirror. Yepperz. I looked like hell. Whatever.

I pulled my light blond hair into a bun and stuck a pencil into it to hold it in place.

My coffee starts beeping at me, letting me know it's done.

"Okay, Okay, Mr. Wake-up-drink-up. I hear you. Give me your insides.", I shake my head reprovingly as I get a mug from one of the cabinets in my kitchen. I take the pot and pour me a cup of joe. I search through my cabinets, trying find sugar to put in it, only to find an empty sugar bag.

"Awwww.", I let out a disappointed sigh before tossing the bag in the trash. I suck it up and accept taking my coffee black. I take a sip of the bitter black liquid as I take a sticky note writing "Need Sugar" on it before plopping it on my desk. I finally sit down on my rutty couch, and turn on my television. I flip through the channels boredly until I hit the GCN, Gotham City News.

"-the GCPD still have not found out a motive for these gruesome crimes. The infamous clown prince of crime known as "The Joker", has of this time not been caught and brought in for questioning. The famous masked vigilante whom has apprehended The Joker on multiple occasions, Batman, has decided not to comment on the situation." I let out a bitter laugh. He doesn't ever comment, news lady. You don't need to tell us. "Now, back to the morning weath-"

The newscaster halted mid-sentence as she puts two fingers up to her ear, obviously over an earpiece. She talks but, her microphone doesn't catch what she is saying. When she finally returns to the desk, she has an anxious look on her face.

"We apologize for that interruption but, our own Vicki Vale is on the scene right now capturing criminals breaking from the world renowned, Arkham Asylum, on camera!"

The TV flickers before switching to a shaky cameraman view.

My eyes widen as the first thing I see is an explosion and people flying back and possibly dying from the impact. How are they showing this on TV?! Vicki comes, from the side of the frame, despite what's happening, she's still insisting the cameramen to film.

"Yes, I am Vicki Vale, and I am live outside Gotham's City's Asylum - Where notorious criminals are currently breaking out-"

She gets cut off when a bullet nearly clips her ear and hits one of her cameramen. Thugs can be heard yelling in celebration of their new found "freedom".

"Mark! Are you okay?", Vicki asks, looking away from the camera filming her to check him.

She straightened out her pencil skirt nervously, before facing the camera and speaking again.

"As you can see, it is total chaos down here. The GCPD are on their way to hold back the riot but, the real question is; Where is batman? Why hasn't he come yet, and what will Chief Warden, Quincy Sharp, have to say to answer for this? I am Vicki Vale, and this is Gotham City News."

As she motions for them to shut off the camera, someone extremely pale in a purple suit, with a smile that has been stretched, or cut into his face, puts a hand on her shoulder. Anyone in Gotham can tell you who he is. The Joker.

"Why, yes, I am happy to be here! Thank you, _Vicki!_ ", the way he said her name made me shiver. It sounded like he was the happiest person in the world.

Vicki spoke up, "Y-You! You're the Joker! You've killed hundreds of people!"

Her face was contorted in utter horror as the criminal nodded.

"You got that right, babes! And, that was just in one of my little temper tantrums. Silly me."

 _Joker._ Now, that was a bastard that has caused buildings to explode and countless lives to end. Rumor has it that he fell into a vat of acid when we was a simple thug, but that vat of acid wasn't your run of the mill burn-face-off acid. It turned his skin and hair, as well as stretched his face into a smile that could break a mirror.

Well, after that, he lost his flippin' mind. Declared himself as "The clown prince of crime" and from then on, dressed to impress. By my knowledge, ever since the big "Lacy Towers" scandal, he's been all cray-cray, loony toons, woohoo in the noggin'. Well, I'm the one who's always been interested Gotham's conspiracies, so who's crazier?

He put an arm around the reporter's shoulder and started talking casually, not caring about the bullets whooshing past them.

"Anyways, my boo-boos aside, I can tell you it is a lovely day in Gotham! Our new project 'break the prisoners out of the nut house' has gone exceedingly well, don't you think, Beautiful?"

Vicki went visibly rigid and stiff.

"You...You let them...let them _all_ out? You're the one who let these _maniacs_ free?"

"Ding-Ding-Ding! You've figured it out! You get a cookie. Though I wouldn't call them _maniacs,_ I mean, the doctors would be offended! I think I speak for all of the dedicated psychiatrists and healthcare providers of this rehabilitation facility when I say that they are simply troubled individuals who need treatment through love and honesty….", he left out 'pffft' before bursting out into a laugh that could make a baby cry. It was a laugh of complete insanity. "Fooled you, didn't I? I sounded just like that toad Sharpie!"

He pushed her to the side and grabbed onto the camera currently filming him.

"You hear that, Bats? The band is having a meeting. _Everyone_ will be there. It'll be a party, and lucky for you, you're the guest of honor! Come and get me. Let's play our fun-fun-fun game!", he laughed before pulling a gun out from somewhere out of the frame.

He pointed the gun at the camera, to which the cameraman tried to run, which he just responded by firing off a round, which I assume was fired into him, and have the camera fall over and break.

The TV went to static as a "Please Stand By" message appeared on the screen. I suppose the news were trying to figure out their next move after a slip-up like that.

I glance at the clock on my wall. It's 8:40 A.M.

"Shit!", I yell out, "I'm gonna be late!" I quickly gulp down the rest of my coffee before getting and dashing for my things. I grab my bag which has my personal effects, wallet, phone, the usual. I quickly swing it over my shoulder before running for door.

I suddenly stop in my tracks. I start patting my chest and neck, feeling for something that is obviously not there.

 _'No. I can't leave without….'_

I walk over to my dresser which has nothing but a lamp, and a piece of gold jewelry on top of it. I don't leave home without it. I take the necklace and clasp it around my neck. It was a simple golden chain necklace with a heart locket pendant. I _could_ sell it for a lot of money, since it's pure gold. I've thought about that a lot. But, the picture inside is what stops me every time.

I opened up the pendant to reveal a picture a young girl in purple and white polka dot dress with a pink ball in her hands, standing beside a rather scary looking lanky boy in dark clothes. The boy was quite older than the little girl, being in his teens while she was just a child. Yet, even with his look of melancholy and his hand gripping a black opened umbrella, both the little girl and boy have an expression of pure happiness on their faces.

Looking at this picture makes me want to cry. The little girl in the photo that's grinning like an idiot was me. I was seven. The boy was around... Sixteen? He never told me. He had dark circles under his eyes, and snapped at anyone who tried to talk him. I smile softly at the memory. He was my only friend.

I felt a wave of nostalgia rush over me as my mind floats to him. He really was a bitter kid. He didn't like anybody, but I guess that's because all the older kids picked on him. Everybody used to make fun of him for the way he walked, talked, and dressed. Didn't help the situation that he was most likely filthy rich, and rich kids were always looked down upon and spit on in the neighborhood I lived in. The older kids used to make fun of the way he used to sort of limp when he walked. I always got confused when someone brought that up. I never noticed, nor cared. To me, he walked fine. Maybe I was too busy begging him to play with me to notice something like that.

He always got annoyed with me and called me a "weird brat" for pestering him, but for some reason I _always_ smiled back at him widely and said: "I may be a weird brat, but I'm a weird brat that wants to be your friend!" He would always grumble profanities, before hesitantly giving in and playing with me. Those times where we played together were one of the best times of my life. Times where I wasn't alone, and times where I smiled at someone who, after some convincing, smiled back.

I've always have been a bit... Different. I'm not good at talking to people and making friends. So... I don't have any. Simple as that. The goth-looking boy who always walked funny was my only friend. And one day, he left. He gave me a pure gold heart locket, saying and I quote: "I'm moving away, so take this to remember me. Don't do anything stupid, you weird brat." He was so blunt and harsh with his words. But, he then kissed the top my head, and told me that he would miss me, before disappearing forever.

No one's ever told me that they would miss me. That was the first and last time I heard that.

I realize that I've been dwelling on my thoughts for a while so I don't even bother to look at the clock as I panic. I chant swear words like a tribal dance as I swing around and rush out the door, making sure to lock it behind me.


	2. Chapter 2

_"Just because my path is different,_

 _Doesn't mean that I'm lost."_

 _~Unknown_

 ** _Monolith Square - 8:57 A.M._**

I let out a string of unlady-like profanities as I rushed out the front door of my apartment building. Grey clouds cloaked the sky, muffling the sunlight, trying to break through - And made the day generally bleak. The cold raindrops fell down onto me steadily, since I didn't have the time to get an umbrella.

 _'_ _Ozzy would have never had this problem. He always carried an umbrella on his person, sometimes more than one.'_

I let out light pants as I ran down the sidewalk, forcing out "excuse me"s and "sorry"s as I had to push by people. I sprinted to the bus stop, praying that I didn't miss it. Please be there. Please be there!

"Shit. Mother F-" Of course it wasn't.

I turned on my heel and immediately geared into a run, no matter that I was fatigued and sweating. That was cut short once my head came into contact with a brick wall. From how fast I ran into it; It only made sense that I fell back onto my butt.

"Miss, Are you alright? You should watch where you're going. Where are you off to in such a rush?"

' _Huh? A talking wall? Cool!'_

"I-I'm alright, Mr….?", I trailed off as I look up to the wall in question.

"Wayne. Nice to meet you."

Oh. Not a wall. Man. Holy shit, he was firm. He offered me a hand and I gladly took it, brushing myself off. I looked up and stared at the former-wall, seeing him do the same back down at me. He had black hair that was rather boyish in contrast that you could tell he was starting to age prematurely, with deep noticeable stress wrinkles around his eyes.

The first thing I noticed was his heavy coat. Underneath, he donned a suit over his broad shoulders, and he held a dark blue umbrella in his fingertips. He leaned forward to share it with me, and towered over me when he did so.

Firm _and_ tall.

Bruce Wayne. I can see now why they call him a playboy. He sure as hell fits the bill. Yet, up close, he looked…. Tired. As if he's been to hell and back. Huh. Many nights spent working on his multi-billion making company could make anyone tired, I suppose. There's a lot of rumors about what the richest man in Gotham does with all of his money, but I've never cared for that kind of gossip, so I've not paid much attention. Super criminals are what intrigue me, not "The Life of The Rich and Famous". My negative thoughts dispersed from my mind when he spoke up again.

"Are you hurt?" I couldn't help but laugh at his concern.

"It was just a fall, Mr. Wayne. I think I'll survive. But, thank you for your thoughtfulness." I nodded at him and he flashed back a charming, yet weary, smile.

"Please, just call me Bruce. 'Mr. Wayne' makes me sound older than I'd like. And you are…?"

"Uh…" I internally spaced. He's asking my name. Why? I wasn't worth his time. I'm pudgy and in sweat pants. Not a good combination to impress a _Wayne._ "Your name is 'Uh'?", he asked jokingly.

Smartass. Okay. I can work with that

"Yes. My name is Uh I-screwed-up Mcgillicuddy and I live on the corner of Um What-the-hell-am-I-doing avenue." He laughed and his voice came out like velvet. Deep and soft. "You're funny. So, If I may ask, What is your actual name?"

"Phacelia Greene.", I admit as I lean down to pick up my, sadly, drenched bag from the ground. "Nice to meet you."

"Phacelia….. That's an unusual name. I like it. You'll have to forgive my curiosity, but where were you running to in such a hurry?" I feel a knot in my stomach at that question. For a moment, I had forgotten all about work.

"I don't have a car.", I reveal softly as I lift my bag over my shoulder. "I was running to try and make it to the bus in time. Which, obviously, I have failed." I blinked at him, the air growing quiet, save for the pouring rain. He just stood there waiting patiently for my next words.

"Um…" I laughed nervously as the situation became awkward.

His blue eyes concentrated on me with an intensity that could make a girl either melt or call the cops. Like everything hinged on the next word. I blushed from the attention and rubbed the back of my neck, averting my eyes. "Look, I'll tell you the whole story if you want to listen."

Then, I stuttered as my top-notch social skills made forget who I was talking to for a moment,"Oh crap! And of course, if you have the time, I understand that you must be very busy…", I quickly added in, but he shook his head.

"No, No… I'm just killing time before I head to a charity gala. I've got a few hours to spare." I opened my mouth to say something, but it closed back like a fish as I squinted at him, processing his words. _'"Killing Time"? Hah. Only a Wayne would talk so casually about going to a charity party that'll probably be worth millions.'_ He simply shrugged as if he was reading my mind.

"Well,", I took a deep breath between words, ", You gotta walk while you talk, then. I'm late to work and now I have to get there by foot. What do you say?" I smiled at him in an encouraging manner and he slightly tensed before nodding.

"I think I can agree to that, Miss Greene." He offered his arm, stunning me. Once my surprise wore off, I gladly took it, looping my arm around his. What a gentleman.

* * *

 ** _Outside of "Cafe Lights", 10:33 A.M._**

I didn't know that having a friend could feel this way. Or at least I did, but forgot over the years.

"So, That's all there is to tell. That's my life. Although, It's not an average day for me to run headfirst into handsome men." I grinned like an idiot at my current companion. He bellowed with laughter. "Your life seems rather difficult… How do you do it?"

I went silent after that and looked down. That question stumped me. I gave the only answer I could. "I… I just… I guess, I just wing it. You know? Take it day by day. Whatever awaits tomorrow, I can deal with it. I know it may seem cliché, but I'm a firm believer that you can do anything if you're determined enough. Then again, luck hasn't always been on my side...", I muttered the last part under my breath. Bruce looked over at me surprisedly, his eyes wide. His face then melted into a soft expression.

"I know that ideal more than anyone."

I raised my eyebrow at that. "You... do?" He nodded. "It may be hard to believe, but yes. I deal with something similar everyday. I never get a day off when it comes to my dreams."

"I can understand that. But, I don't really have a dream. My life is pretty drab, to be honest. I didn't come to Gotham for wealth or fame. I came to find a new life, one where I can leave the past behind." His warm expression was like a mug of hot cocoa on a cold day as he replied, "You do have a dream. A very good one."

I gazed at him again, dumbfounded. "What do you mean?" He turned to look down at me in a thoughtful manner. He had to be somewhere around 6 foot because he is a giant compared to my measly 5"1 height.

"I mean what I said. You have a wonderful dream. You dream of a new beginnings. Forgive me for sounding like a cheap psychic,", I laughed at that remark, "But…. You sought out a rebirth. And that is very noble."

Bruce's eyes flicker up towards the skyscrapers that touch seek to touch the clouds, gazing at the bridges and buildings beyond them. "Most come to this city for reasons that are…", He sighed, putting a hand up to his forehead, "... Less than honorable. But, If I were you, I wouldn't waste my time in this city… It's dangerous here. You could get hurt."

"I hear that.", I absently added as I watched my boss through the window of the cafe, who was currently fuming. I'm going to guess that he's fuming over my absence.

 _'Crap.'_

I quickly turned my head back to Bruce and sighed in disappointment. "So, this is my stop... And _that_ is my boss." I pointed at him through the large glass pane wall with the words "Cafe Lights" impressed in cursive writing upon it. Bruce followed my line of sight, as I informed him of the devil in the disguise of a short italian man. "Yeah, he's the pissed one. Most likely it's about me being late. Oh, happy-happy-joy-joy." Sarcasm dripped off my voice as I looked back up at him, and his blue eyes shifted back to mine.

"Well, uh, I should go in. Wish me luck?" I laughed, my nervousness getting the better of me again.

"Good luck.", he offered kindly. I nodded and laughed in return. "Thanks. God knows that I'm gonna need it. I've always had really crappy luck, so every little bit helps." I began to enter the building, but I halted and looked back at him still standing there.

"Hey. Bruce?"

He flinched like he was snapping out of a trance. "Yes, Phacelia?" I looked down at the ground, contemplating what words should come next. I'm horrible at making friends, which one can tell by the fact that I don't have any. But, I have to try.

I lifted my head with a smile. My hand were still gripped on the steel door handle, though I made no attempts to open it as of yet. "Thank you for walking with me. I know it may sound weird, but I really enjoyed myself.", I said with a timid shrug of my shoulders.

He shook his head with a calm happiness. "No, that's not weird at all. I enjoyed myself, too."

Silence filled the air once again, but I didn't move a muscle. Thoughts were forming a blizzard in my head, winds of a two-hundred miles per hour. Bruce was kind, and funny. Not all what I thought a billionaire would act like. I'm rags, he's riches, yet… Oh damn it to hell. If I don't take the chance to make a friend now, I might not ever make one again.

I moved my beige worn-out long strapped bag over to my front, flipping over the top and digging through it. I pulled out a small notepad, and a pen. I scribbled on it before ripping off a page and handing it over to Bruce. "Here. Here's my number. If you ever decide that you want to walk with me again, or just talk…. Give me a call."

He took it from me, looking at the numbers I had written. He let out a breath, "Definitely." I went back to door, entering the cafe. I threw a hand behind me in a half wave. "See you later, Mr. Wayne!"

"Good day, Miss Greene."

* * *

 ** _Inside "Cafe Lights" - 8:57 P.M._**

Note to self: If you are running late to work, you might as well just go home and relax, show up the next day, because you're going get your ass chewed out either way.

I grumbled as I walked into locker room, ready to end my shift and get the hell out of here. I took off my black apron and purple uniform, stuffing it back into my assigned locker, before changing into my normal clothing.

It was just as I thought. My boss, Mr. Ritan, was a complete douchebag over the fact I was late. He knew I didn't have a car. He knew that I missed the bus and had to walk in the pouring rain. _'Of course, I was escorted by a handsome philanthropist, but he didn't know that!'_ Yet, he didn't cut me any slack. I let out an exasperated breath.

It's not his fault, I guess. I really need this job. It was my fault I was late. Still, I'm a hard worker and have never been late a day in my life. One slip-up today and suddenly I'm as bad as the Joker.

I slammed the grey metal door of the locker shut angrily, as I slid my brown photographer style bag back over my shoulder. I was so close to punching people in the face today. So, very close.

"'Oh, Don't worry I'll clean that up!' 'Oh, you want to change your order for the 5th time? That's fine, sir!' 'Oh your screaming child tripped me, I don't need an apology! Don't attempt to give me one!'" I gritted my teeth as I repeated my experiences in a mocking tone. I just want to go home.

I shook my head as I wrote down in the employee ledger that I was clocking out

I began to wonder if Bruce would call me. God, why am I thinking about it? I should put it into the far recesses of mind. Bruce is a billionaire playboy. He was probably walking with me out of pity. I felt my shoulders slump at that thought. I just need to wipe it from my mind.

I laugh softly, closing the book shut. I'm an idiot, treating a walk so seriously. I'm acting like a lovesick girl worrying about a boy who said he would call after a date.

I tightened my bag's strap over my shoulder, before exiting the small cafe through the back door, locking it behind me. I stepped into the alleyway which was illuminated by an old street lamp that needs replacing, giving the narrow space an orange hue. The chill of the night air bit into my exposed skin, the sound of cars filled my ears.

 _'I really do love this city.'_

This feeling is why I stay. This is my purpose of being here. If I could spend an eternity drowned in this feeling, I would be a happy woman. I closed my eyes, revelling in the feeling for a moment. I smiled softly, re-opening them to see a shadow at the end of the alley way, just on the edge of my vision.

 _'What?'_

My whole mind felt like it was locking up and malfunctioning, going into alert mode. Quickly scanning the area for a threat, I shakily turned back around towards the door. I jiggled the rusted iron handle, the sound of my heart drummed in my ears.

Damn. I forgot that I locked it behind me.

I felt warm iron press into my head. "Watch it, bitch. All of your money, or a bullet lodged into your brain, choose." _A mugger._ My attacker sounded all big and tough, but the barrel was trembling against my scalp.

I tried to calm myself down, my words shakily escaping, "Now, wait just a minute…"

He nudged it further into my head, losing patience, "Shut up and just give me your wallet." When I didn't move out of fear, he fired a warning shot at the brick wall beside the door. I yelped in surprise, my body involuntarily jerking.

"Now.", he spoke with rage, putting the gun back to my head. I sighed sadly.

I wanted to punch this punk in the nose, but I also wanted to leave with my life.

"Okay, okay.", I said, trying to keep him from firing. I dug into my bag, before I turned around slowly with my wallet in my hand.

He yanked it from me and delved through it. I stared at him, I couldn't see his face well - He had a blue bandana covering the entire bottom half of his face. He pulled out what little money I had before tossing the material to the side. He stuffed the money into his pockets.

When he looked back at me with the gun pointed, I raised my hands in submission as I waited for him to flee the alleyway.

He didn't, though. He wasn't done. He gestured to my chest with his gun.

"And the necklace."

My eyes bolted wide. My breath caught in my throat as the entire world seemed to stand still.

I swallowed ice as my own voice ringed in my ears, "What?"

"Your necklace, bitch. I won't ask again." I heard him the first time, but my whole mind seemed to stop responding as my fingertips brushed over the golden chain and locket. My fingers shook violently as my eyes glazed over.

 _"I'll come back. I promise. I'll come back for you, one day."_

Oh, God. Ozzy, I can't give it to him. I can't. It's all I have left.

"Well? I don't have all day. Give me the damn-"

"Shoot me."

"What? What did you say?"

I looked at him with a hollow, almost stone-like expression. "I said, 'Shoot me.' It's the only way in hell you're getting it."

"Are you crazy? You wanna die? Just give it to me!" He rushed forward and attempted to rip it off my neck, and my hands came up against his arms. It was probably foolish. I probably should have given it to him - But it was as if I would be giving him part of my very soul. This scumbag was not worth it.

When he found that I wasn't going to let him take it, he pushed away from me. He pointed the gun between my eyes. "Should've just given me what I wanted."

Suddenly, a deafening gunshot rang through the air.

* * *

I watched through the scope as the bullet made contact with his head. Good. My target went down. Another contract fulfilled without a hitch.

The concrete bites underneath my chest from where I lay- But this rooftop is a hitman's dream when it comes to positioning with a long range weapon such as mine.

The blonde-haired waitress looked around for me, confused. I smirked at her dimness.

 _'Good luck with that, sweetheart.'_

I watched her for a minute. She continued her search before crouching over my target's body and digging through his pockets, somewhat reluctantly.

 _'Hmm. Usually civilians run like rats whenever a gun or dead body is involved. She must be really hard pressed for cash.'_

She fishes out the green pieces of paper, then stands up again with a stagger. The girl then quickly walks out of the alleyway, picking up her wallet, and getting her phone to-

I remove the scope from my red lensed reticle, and shake my head. "Shit. She's calling the police." I slide the scope off my weapon, then proceed to disassemble it and place it in my suitcase. I clasped it shut, then stood up. Time to get out of here and collect my paycheck.

"Seems like it's time for _both_ of us to scram. You got lucky, kid.", I shook my head with a reproving sigh. "Don't waste your good luck."

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you have been enjoying my story so far! Sorry that's it's cliché.**

 **Btw: Phacelia is pronounced "Fae-cee-lee-ah"**

 **P.S: Isn't Deadshot a sweetie? ^_~**


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